Tricks And Drinks
by Tuuli
Summary: This is SLASH. Lovespells can be tricky things... especially if Marcus has charmed Oliver and Percy knows about it. OliverMarcus (with one-sided OliverPercy?) Chapter four added; violence warning.
1. Above The Quidditch Pitch

Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's. And you know that.  
  
A/N: I: Emily, you are one hell of a beta. Thanks. This one is dedicated to Hethu Meleth for two things: coming up with the title and just being a good friend. Welcome to the world of slash fan fiction :)  
  
A/N II: Why can't I write an Oliver/Marcus fic WITHOUT Percy?  
  
Tricks And Drinks Part I: Above The Quidditch Pitch  
  
~~~  
  
Percy would've sworn if swearing hadn't been such a bad and immature thing to do. He had just witnessed an awful incident; he had walked in at the wrong moment. He had seen Oliver take a sip of something and grimace afterwards at the bad taste of it; and at the same time, Marcus Flint had muttered quiet words from the corner where he had been standing in the shadows. That could only mean one thing.   
  
A love spell.   
  
Marcus Flint had just magically made Oliver Wood fall in love with him. Damn it. It was a fate worse than death, having to be with Marcus Flint until he got bored of you. Having to be Marcus Flint's personal... fuck-toy. The thought made Percy squirm.  
  
There was *no* *way* Percy was letting Marcus go this time. *No* *way*. No matter how strict he appeared to be, he was actually a little bit afraid of Flint and his big body and his strength. He had let a lot of stuff just slip through his fingers in order to save himself. He didn't want to get beaten by Flint's friends or anything. But this time Flint had definitely crossed the line. Definitely. He had done something completely unforgivable. He had dared to touch Percy's best - his *only* - friend. And that was something Percy would *not* tolerate  
  
He wondered where Flint had gotten the charm in the first place. The teachers were very strict when it came to Love Spells... They had a school full of kids, full of hormone-filled teenagers. They didn't want those kids to run around charming each other, and therefore all the books with Love Spells in them had been destroyed and no teacher was allowed to tell any pupil how to cast a Love Spell. But Marcus had found out how to do it - and worse yet, actually *done* it. And now Percy had to do something. Oliver was his best friend. The only problem was that counter curses were often very hard to cast. It might take a while to find one. And until then, Oliver was hopelessly in love with his biggest rival.  
  
~~~  
  
People thought Draco Malfoy was a confident asshole, who didn't need anyone's approval. Well, people thought wrong. Draco Malfoy had always been very fond of older Slytherin company, especially Flint and his friends. That was probably because Flint happened to be the Captain of the Quidditch team. Malfoy always needed to impress them, be one of the gang, hang out with them, be a big boy. And he was *very* proud of how Snape always treated him so nicely. He liked telling them how well Snape treated him all the time. Marcus had seen this as his chance.  
  
"You're always telling us how much Snape just *loves* you..." he had begun coldly, hearing his mates chuckle at his choice of words. "Why don't you prove it, Malfoy?"  
  
Malfoy had grinned and nodded confidently, so Marcus had continued, "Make him tell you how to make a Love Potion."   
  
Malfoy's grin had turned into a grimace, and Marcus had been delighted, because he just loved making Malfoy uncomfortable. He had been worried, for a moment, that others would see his ultimate goal with the challenge, and had been relieved when they hadn't. They had merely laughed and told the little annoying third-year, "Yeah, that's a great idea! That'll really prove it, Malfoy!"  
  
And so Draco Malfoy had beamed at Marcus when he had handed him the instruction to make a Love Potion a week later. And Marcus had raised an eyebrow, smiled and said, "Impressive!" and laughed with the others, making Malfoy beam even more. Then he had folded the piece of parchment carefully into his pocket and left the room.  
  
And everything had succeeded; Oliver Wood was now drooling over him, he was sure of it. Oliver Wood was *his* now, and nothing could keep them apart. He contemplated whether he should play with him until he came to him begging for it or just take things fast and seduce him. Now. Tonight. He couldn't help but think of how Oliver's hands would feel on his skin, his mouth on his... uhm. This wasn't the time to think about that. This was *not* the time to have a hard-on. But judging by his body's reaction to even the thought of Oliver Wood made him decide: it had to happen now.  
  
It was a cold winter night. A thick blanket of snow covered the ground, glistening in the starlight. Marcus stood near the Quidditch pitch, breathing in the crisp air and watching Oliver hover around in the air. The younger boy hadn't noticed him yet; he was too busy enjoying the silence of the night high up in the air.   
  
Marcus tried to look like his normal grumpy self, but failed as a massive grin spread on his face. Oh. This was going to be something special. He was just about to call out for Oliver, when the younger boy suddenly saw him standing there and flew closer. Marcus had to struggle to make his face blank again.  
  
"Flint," he said simply when he reached the ground. They were standing six feet apart, eyeing each other carefully. "If you're here to spy on our practise, you're a little late. Everyone else is gone already."  
  
Marcus didn't say anything to Oliver. Instead, he just muttered a quiet, "Up," and the broomstick flew to his hand from the ground. He kicked off, leaving the slightly pissed Oliver behind. Marcus knew the Gryffindor had no right to actually tell him to fuck off; their practise was over and Marcus could be there if he wanted to. Oliver didn't own the fucking place, after all.  
  
It felt so wonderful, being in the air again, that Marcus almost forgot the real reason he was there. But then he saw Oliver reluctantly kick off from the ground and remembered. Oh, right. Seduction. For a moment he avoided Oliver, knowing Oliver was also avoiding him. They were flying at the far ends of the pitch, Oliver glaring at Marcus every now and then angrily. Fifteen minutes later the Gryffindor apparently got sick of watching the other boy and flew back to the ground. He was just about to gather all his Quidditch stuff and leave when Marcus reached him.   
  
"Wood, wait," he said to the younger of the two. He was now flying so low that his toes touched the ground. He flew slowly a circle around Oliver, who stopped walking.   
  
Sighing, he said, "What do you want, Flint?" Because no Slytherin ever wanted the company of a Gryffindor unless there was something in it for them.   
  
"Why don't you get back on that broom of yours, eh? I want to talk to you, and if we get up there, we can admire the view at the same time," Marcus said, smiling what he hoped was a friendly smile.   
  
Oliver's jaw dropped at Flint's somewhat romantic words. Marcus looked at him, amused. Then he took off again, leaving it to the Gryffindor to follow. And Oliver did, though it was mainly because this was now just too weird to let go. He wanted to see more of Marcus Flint talking like this. Marcus flew around the pitch once, while Oliver stopped in the mid-air, waiting.  
  
"So what did you want to talk about, Flint?" Oliver asked, when Marcus had come closer and stopped in the air five feet away from Oliver.  
  
Marcus shrugged. He actually *shrugged*. Oliver looked at him questioningly. Marcus bit his lip in order to keep from blurting something stupid out. He didn't exactly know what to say; he had almost been expecting Oliver to attack him and kiss him or something, so he hadn't been prepared for witty small talk. He was glad when Oliver filled the silence after a moment, even if it was with Quidditch-related babbling.  
  
"The... The Gryffindor versus Slytherin game is coming up, you know? I hope your Seeker's already better..." he trailed off only to start again. "I wonder who's going to be Captain next year, when we graduate... I think maybe Potter will do it. McGonagall likes him and he *is* good..."  
  
Oliver was clearly nervous. 'He's nervous because he fancies me...' Marcus thought, and it made his stomach suddenly do flip-flops. Oliver drew a breath to keep talking about the only thing he knew anything about, keeping his eyes on the older boy. Before he could start, however, Marcus suddenly flew closer, dangerously close, and *kissed* him. In the air. Above the Quidditch pitch. In the middle of the night. And... it was good.  
  
Marcus licked experimentally at Oliver's lips, trying to get him to open them for him. Oliver did, hesitatingly, and the kiss deepened, two tongues playing with each other. Marcus let go of his broomstick, balancing himself with only his legs around it, and cupped the younger boy's face gently. Who knew Marcus Flint could actually be gentle? He broke the kiss and looked at Oliver, who still had his eyes closed and was breathing rapidly, his lips parted. The sight was driving Marcus mad.   
  
"What," Oliver breathed without opening his eyes, "the fuck was that?"   
  
"A kiss," Marcus replied sarcastically. Oliver winced. He *actually* winced. Then he fought to get Marcus to let go of him. "Shit, Oliver, get a grip! If you keep that up, I'll end up falling down!" Marcus snapped. He didn't let go of Oliver and the younger boy calmed down. Oliver looked at Marcus accusingly, but kept quiet. Fuck, what was this?  
  
"Oliver... I didn't mean it like that..." Oh, this was going nowhere. "Can I kiss you again?" Marcus asked finally.   
  
"Are you fucking with me?" Oliver asked in return, sounding very suspicious, which had a funny effect to it, considering Marcus was still holding his face.  
  
'No, but I wouldn't mind fucking *you*,' was the only thought Marcus had in his head for a short moment. Then he regained his senses and wrapped his arms around Oliver's shoulders, kissing him again. No matter how suspicious he was, Oliver couldn't fight him, didn't *want* to fight him, he just melted into the kiss. Marcus explored his mouth demandingly, controlling the kiss easily. He was the one to break the kiss, again.  
  
"Don't do this to me," Oliver pleaded, his eyes closed again. He was flushed. 'Adorable,' Marcus thought before he got hold of himself again.   
  
"Don't do what to you?" he asked nonchalantly, though he thought he had a fairly good idea of what Oliver was talking about.   
  
"This," Oliver said and opened his deep brown eyes. "Don't tease me." Pause. "Please," he added quietly.   
  
"Do you love me?" Marcus asked out of the blue. It was extremely easy to ask a hard question when you were positive of the answer.   
  
"Y-... I... What?" Oliver stuttered, blinking, eyes widening.   
  
"You do, don't you?" Marcus said fondly, caressing Oliver's back, since he still had his arms wrapped around him. Oliver, however, was still holding his broomstick. (Literally.) The younger of the two didn't answer; he just looked away. Marcus decided there was no point in pushing him, since he already knew the answer, and dropped it. Instead, he kissed that delicious-looking neck Oliver had. What surprised him was that biting on that skin gently made Oliver whimper. Marcus pulled away with a smile on his lips.  
  
"Don't you think it's time we got down?" Marcus asked, lifting a hand to run it through Oliver's sand-brown hair.   
  
"I guess," was Oliver's weak response. Marcus let go of his shoulders but grabbed one of his hands instead, flying towards the ground, pulling Oliver with him. They landed with a quiet thud. Marcus was still holding Oliver's hand when they walked through the garden.  
  
When they got to the door of the castle, Marcus suddenly stopped and pulled Oliver closer. "Have you ever wanted to see what a Slytherin dormitory looks like?" He couldn't resist the temptation to lick at his ear experimentally. He was pleased when Oliver shivered.  
  
"I... uh... not really," the Gryffindor answered unevenly, making Marcus pull away to see what was going on. Oliver was in love with him; there was no way he was going to back down now. "Because I have this big dormitory all to myself and it would be waste not to use it..."   
  
A smile spread on Marcus's face. Of course. Percy, the Head Boy, had his own private room. "You lead," he said hoarsely in Oliver's ear, letting the younger boy pull him into the direction of the Gryffindor dormitories.  
  
Percy watched them enter the castle and head for the Gryffindor dormitories from the shadows. He squeezed his eyes shut. Poor Oliver. 


	2. Know Your Enemy

A/N: This is getting too Percy-centered. I promise there will be less of him in next chapter. *grin* Emily beta'd, thanks to her for that.  
  
Tricks And Drinks Part II: Know Your Enemy  
  
~~~  
  
"Oliver, is something up?" Percy heard a curious voice ask innocently. He glanced in the direction of his best mate and saw Potter talking with him. "You seem happy. New Quidditch strategies?"   
  
Oliver almost choked on whatever he was having for breakfast. He coughed violently and then burst out laughing. "Well, let's just say something definitely Quidditch related," he said when he had calmed down, and flashed Potter a megawatt smile, unlike anything Percy had ever seen before.   
  
'Quidditch related. Right. You think having sex with the enemy is a good idea,' Percy thought bitterly. 'Of course he does,' he reminded himself then. 'He's under a spell.'   
  
Everyone seemed to have noticed the change in Oliver's appearance. The Quidditch Captain was everything but stressed, which was his normal state of mind. Oliver was always stressed about Quidditch - except today. Today he was practically lying in his chair, his legs far under the table and his arms spread as comfortably as possible. He was talking, laughing, and flashing those big grins that made everyone arch their eyebrows. And then, he was also sneaking glances at the Slytherin table so often that Percy wondered why no one had noticed. Oliver did *not* look like a boy who hadn't slept much last night; he was truly relaxed, smiling, happy, and Percy knew exactly why. He had a hard time trying not to think of his best bloody mate as 'thoroughly fucked.'  
  
"Oh, so you admit something's up?" George asked, smiling mischievously at Oliver. Percy had long ago learned to avoid those grins as a sign of something bad.   
  
"Yeah," Fred chimed in. "What have you been planning?"   
  
"Well, actually, I've been thinking a lot about the Slytherin game that's coming up," Oliver said easily.  
  
'Yeah, I bet you have,' Percy thought.  
  
"I have a few new ideas," Oliver continued wickedly and grinned again. He made a move to get up, but couldn't help but add, "Know your enemy!" and wink at the Weasley Twins before heading out of the Great Hall.   
  
The Twins looked at each other questioningly and then shrugged, going back to their breakfast. Percy hesitated for a moment, then stood up and followed his friend.   
  
"Oliver, wait up!" he shouted as he entered the hallway, a long way from Oliver, who was apparently walking very fast. The Quidditch Captain turned around at the sound of his voice and let Percy catch up with him.   
  
"Oh hi, Perce. What's up?" Oliver asked brightly.   
  
Percy didn't exactly know what to say. He pondered on different approaches to the subject, but he was taking too long. "Uhm... I want to talk to you about Marcus," Percy said finally, spitting the name out rather harshly. He gestured towards the hallway and they started to walk together.  
  
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What about him?"  
  
"Uhm, he... I saw him, yesterday... Uh. I know about you two," Percy said awkwardly and looked uncomfortable, refusing to look at Oliver.  
  
"How can you know about it?" Oliver asked, surprised. His voice was calm and light, and Percy turned to look at him. Percy had been expecting Oliver to tell him to sod off or something, to stop interfering with his life. Maybe being so... uh... thoroughly fucked had its advantages.  
  
"I, uh, saw you two last night, when you came up here," Percy said quickly. He squirmed. "What was it about?"  
  
Oliver blushed and laughed at the same time.   
  
"Uh... Believe me, Perce, you don't want to know. Just... big boy stuff." Oliver smirked happily, not showing any signs of embarrassment. Then he stilled and looked almost serious. "It was amazing," he added and started to squirm a little.  
  
Percy couldn't think of a thing to say. There certainly was no point in asking Oliver how he felt about Marcus. "Um... Oliver, I know you're feeling really good right now... But are you sure this is a good thing?"   
  
If he could only get a seed of doubt in Oliver's mind...   
  
Oliver arched an eyebrow innocently. "What do you mean? Just because he's a Slytherin and he's big and strong and... uhm... what I mean is, not getting along with everyone doesn't mean he's going to hurt me!" he said defensively.   
  
Percy had only one thought in his head and it was something he would never have said aloud. 'Fuck Love Potions.' Because that was clearly what this was about, the stupid potion that had messed with Oliver's head. "I know that, Oliver, it's just that... you're a good friend and I want you to be happy," Percy said truthfully.  
  
"I know, Perce. And believe me, I'm really, *really* happy right now. There's no reason for you to worry. He'll... take care of me," Oliver said idealistically.   
  
Oh, the idealism was because of the potion, too. This was definitely not the Oliver he knew. Or was it? Was the Oliver he knew, or at least *thought* he knew, so-- No. The Oliver he knew was not in love with Marcus Flint.   
  
Percy regretted his decision of not telling the teachers about this. He hadn't wanted to humiliate Oliver and had decided to keep this a secret. But if he had told someone, *anyone*, McGonagall maybe, they would've found a counter-curse in no time and Oliver would have been himself again.   
  
But everyone would also have known that Marcus Flint had charmed him, that Flint had used him, raped him in a way, made him his fuck-toy. And that just wouldn't do. Percy wanted Oliver to be respected by other students, especially the Quidditch players. Who would ever have thought of Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Captain, with respect, had they known about this incident with Marcus Flint?   
  
"I've got to go now," Percy said suddenly, stopping on his tracks. "I, uh, I forgot something I have to do. Head Boy duties," he explained uneasily.   
  
"Sure," Oliver said and smiled. There it was again, that dazzling smile. "I'll meet you in class, right?"   
  
Percy nodded, smiled and turned away. He needed to find Marcus. Immediately.  
  
~~~  
  
Marcus had just finished his breakfast, which he had been eating for an eternity already. From where he sat, he could see Oliver all the time, and the way he laughed and gestured with his hands and smiled like the sun itself was really distracting. Especially if you happened to have special memories of those hands and that smile...  
  
He got up from the bed and told his so called friends not to follow him, that he had something he had forgotten to do. He wanted to go see how Oliver was doing - but then again, he didn't want to be with the Gryffindor *all* the time. He wasn't that addicted... yet. So instead, he decided to find some annoying first-year to terrorize. He turned around one corner when someone grabbed his robes and pulled him aside.   
  
"Hey!" Marcus protested, pushing the other boy away. It was Percy fucking Weasley, damn it. "What the fuck are you doing, Head Boy?"   
  
"Calm down and listen to me, Flint. I don't like this any more than you do, but I happen to know what you did to Oliver," Percy said. "And I don't like *that*, either."   
  
Flint's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you talking about, Weasel?"   
  
"Come on, Flint. The spell. I'm talking about the spell. Why do you do this? You'll end up hurting him, and I won't tolerate that," Percy said, sounding a lot more convincing than what he actually felt. "I'm looking for a counter-curse."   
  
"What?" Marcus was starting to lose his temper.   
  
"The only reason I didn't go to a teacher straight away was Oliver. I don't want to hurt him, including I don't want to humiliate him. I'll reverse the spell. Oh, and if any of your brainless friends even try to touch me, I'll go to McGonagall. Is that clear?"   
  
"Now you listen to me, Weasley. I won't let you fuck this up. I won't let you near him," Marcus said, sounding just as convincing as he actually felt.   
  
"Yeah right, like that would ever work. After I find that reverse spell, I'll only need ten seconds with him. You can't be with him *all* the time. And why would you want to, anyway? You just want him so that you can f... have sex with him, right?" Percy said. When Flint didn't answer, he raised an eyebrow. "Right?"   
  
Flint was quiet for a moment and then gave him an evil smile. "Right. But, Weasley, I happen to like fucking him, as you were about to say. I'll do everything I can to keep him. I'm not letting go that easily, and *you* are not scaring me."   
  
"Flint, look at it like this. You'll end up breaking his heart. You'll get bored of him, leave him and it'll break his heart. If you have a counter-curse, use it. Otherwise I'll do it myself," Percy said. "I know you don't especially like him, that you don't care what you do to him, but I do. He's a good friend. If you're as clever as I think you are, you let him go. Is it true, that Marcus Flint can only get laid when he's charmed his... friend?"  
  
Flint's eyes sparkled and suddenly a fist collided with Percy's nose. "Stay out of this," he told the younger boy, who was now holding his nose.   
  
Percy didn't know whether to be angry or scared. He just stared at Marcus accusingly. "I could go to McGonagall *right* *now*," he said. "How would you like that?"   
  
"I thought you didn't want to humiliate Oliver, Weasley. What would humiliate him more than suddenly find out he only loves me because he's charmed? And worse yet... he'd still be in love with me, because I haven't got any counter-curse whatsoever," Marcus said in a low voice.  
  
Percy caressed his nose with his fingertips. Marcus hadn't hit him hard, just hard enough to let him know who was in charge here. "You'll leave him and he will end up with a broken heart. I never thought even *you* could be that low," he said, turning around and fleeing before Flint had time to react.  
  
Marcus stood there for a minute, feeling rage run through his veins. How dare he! Fucking Weasleys, nothing good had ever come from them. "Can't leave him if I love him," Marcus muttered vaguely to himself, cursing how pathetic that sounded. He, Marcus Flint, in *love*. With a fucking Gryffindor! With another *boy*! With another Quidditch Captain... how fucked up was *that*?   
  
He decided to skip the first classes. How cared about Potions anyway? Snape would probably be furious for a moment, but calm down soon, and Flint wouldn't probably even get detention - he was the damned Quidditch Captain, after all. He picked up his broom and went outside to fly a little bit.   
  
The first class was over when Marcus stumbled back to the castle. The hallways were full of students walking to their next classes, their dormitories or the library. After a few minutes of searching, he saw Oliver talking with other seventh-year Gryffindor boys in a corner. The younger boy spotted him and smiled, paying little attention to whatever the fucking Weasley was saying.   
  
'See, Weasley? He's more interested in seeing me than listening to you,' Marcus thought triumphantly. He smiled at Oliver and somehow found himself walking closer. The Gryffindor's eyes widened. 'Thought I'd keep us a secret, did you?'  
  
The Weasley stopped talking as he realized everyone was watching at something that was behind his back. He turned around only to see Marcus walking closer. Heatedly, he said, "Flint, I thought this was clear to you already."  
  
"Shut up, Weasley," Marcus said, glancing at the Head Boy briefly. Then his eyes found the smiling Oliver again. When Marcus stopped walking, he was clearly invading Oliver's personal space. "Hey," the older boy said softly before placing a gentle kiss on Oliver's awaiting lips. They kissed softly, yet passionately, until half of the students were cheering at them and the other half was looking too stunned to move a muscle, their mouths hanging ridiculously open. They broke the kiss and Marcus completely ignored everyone else, concentrating on the boy in front of him.   
  
"Hey to yourself," Oliver answered, sounding out of breath, before smirking at everyone. Then he kissed the Slytherin again, pissing Percy off more than he knew.   
  
Marcus broke the kiss and wrapped an arm lazily around Oliver very possessively and protectively. He didn't try to pull the Gryffindor aside, merely just stood there, looking interested in what the others were saying. His main focus was on Oliver, however; how good his hair smelled and how good it felt to just hold him.   
  
That fucking Weasley wouldn't get anywhere near his Oliver, Marcus would take care of that. And if he ever told a teacher about this, he'd kill him. 


	3. The Perfect Morning

A/N: Been busy. Written a lotta RPS. Want to have my own site. Soon. I promise. Forget Me Not update next. Count on it. Thanks, E.   
  
Tricks And Drinks Part III: The Perfect Morning  
  
~~~  
  
The first thing Marcus noticed when he woke up was that he wasn't alone. There was someone in his arms, someone's hair on his face. Oliver. Just the thought of Oliver sleeping peacefully in his arms, head buried in his chest, made his heart race. Oliver was finally where Marcus had wanted him to be for so long. Though Marcus had really thought they'd be spending more time in the Slytherin dormitory and not Gryffindor...   
  
Marcus was lying on his side in the four-poster bed. The curtains were closed around them, rest of the world shut out by a silencing charm. Oliver's head was on Marcus's right arm, and the younger boy was breathing against his shoulder. Marcus's left was arm thrown very tight around Oliver's chest, holding him possessively. The moment was perfect in every single way. This was fucking heaven. Thank god for Saturdays.  
  
It was a shame, really, to wake Oliver up, but Marcus wanted to do something other than just sleeping. Marcus let his left hand travel downwards, caressing the tender skin of his stomach. He touched Oliver's right side, then continued downwards before settling on just below his navel, rubbing the soft skin gently. Oliver whimpered and started to wake up. Marcus thought amusedly that he was definitely going to take advantage of knowing these secret places.   
  
"Morning, Oliver," Marcus said softly, wrapping his arm around Oliver's chest again.  
  
"Flint?" Oliver mumbled against his chest. "Uh... I mean, Marcus."   
  
Marcus grinned. He wondered if he'd ever get used to Oliver calling him 'Marcus.' "Sleep well?" He could feel Oliver laugh softly at his words and demanded, "What's so funny?"   
  
"You, asking me if I slept well... This is a new, interesting side of you. I've never seen you like this," Oliver replied softly, teasing, before placing a kiss on Marcus's shoulder.   
  
Marcus rolled his eyes but didn't answer. So he had a soft spot for Oliver Wood, so what? It didn't mean he wasn't the same, big, bad-tempered, strong bloke everyone was so afraid of. It was true that he didn't usually give a fuck, that he liked kicking everyone's ass, but one thing was for sure: he'd never hurt Oliver. Ever. Hmph, pathetic, wasn't it?  
  
Marcus was caught completely off guard when a hand suddenly slipped between his thighs. He couldn't believe he had actually whimpered at that. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had spent the last week discovering secret places. Marcus grabbed Oliver's wrist and with one, smooth movement had the younger boy pinned beneath him.   
  
"I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking about that," Marcus said good-naturedly before bending his head to kiss Oliver. They kissed neatly for a moment, but then Oliver surprised the Slytherin again. As smoothly as Marcus had done a moment ago, Oliver now pinned the older boy down, sliding on top of him. Oliver grabbed Marcus's wrists and held them above his head on the bed.   
  
"W-what?" was Marcus's reaction. "Wow, you're strong," he chuckled when he got hold of himself again. He tested Oliver's grip a little, only to find it hold pretty well. If Marcus had really tried, he might've been just a little bit stronger. Maybe. He tested Oliver's grip again. Or maybe not. Maybe Oliver, though a little bit smaller in size, was a little bit stronger than him.  
  
"Mm-hmm," Oliver said, smiling, and licked a path down Marcus's throat. "Why don't you let me be on top this time?" he asked, grinding their hips together.   
  
What? Oliver wanted to be on top? Marcus hadn't considered that option.   
  
"Funny, I assumed you were... *satisfied*... as the bottom," he said with a small smile.   
  
Oliver stopped licking and lifted his head to look at Marcus. "Don't get me wrong, Marcus. I'm really... *satisfied*... but I'd like to top every once in a while. I think you'd enjoy it, too," he murmured warmly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. One of his hands let go of Marcus's wrist and travelled down the older boy's body to grab his cock. Marcus let out a shuddering breath.   
  
"You think so?" he said, trying to stay coherent as Oliver's hand stroked him rhythmically.   
  
"Mm-hmm," Oliver answered again, going back to licking Marcus's neck.   
  
And Percy Weasley chose this moment to open the curtains and look inside.   
  
~~~  
  
Percy thought they wouldn't cast a silencing charm; after all, there was no one else in the dormitory. He thought he'd find Oliver sleeping soundly in his bed, just *maybe* Marcus's arms wrapped around him. He hoped Flint wouldn't be there. He didn't hear anything and the bed wasn't shaking - which he took as a good sign. After a few minutes of telling himself he could do it, he opened the curtains, only to find Oliver sucking on Marcus's neck while lying on top of him and pinning his hands above his head, the blanket fortunately covering most of their naked bodies.  
  
"Jesus fucking Christ!" was Marcus's automatic reaction as he struggled free of Oliver's grip and pulled the covers up. Oliver lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder.   
  
"Oh, hi, Perce. Um... hi," the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain said. There was a moment of pure discomfort, but then Oliver flashed a quick smile before turning to Marcus again. "Percy's here."   
  
"I can see that," Flint said furiously, staring into Percy's eyes.   
  
Gulp.   
  
"Uhm, sorry, I thought... uh..." Percy stuttered, blushing and looking away from the two naked figures.   
  
"Get the fuck out of here, *now*," Marcus growled coldly. Oliver decided to ignore their uninvited guest and went back to licking his boyfriend's neck. He bit down a little bit roughly and Marcus jumped, but didn't take his accusing eyes off Percy.  
  
"Oliver, uh, I just ran into Potter. You're late for Quidditch practise," Percy said, trying to sound formal and find a way out of the horrendous situation.   
  
Oliver lifted his head quickly and terror filled his expression. "What? Oh shit!" He turned to Marcus again. "I'm late for Quidditch practise," he repeated.  
  
"Yes, I heard," Marcus said irritably. Fuck, this day was just getting worse. Well, if the morning had been perfect, it couldn't really get better, now could it? To Percy, he said, "Would you please get the fuck out so that we can put some clothes on?"   
  
"Um, certainly. I... I'll leave you to it," the Head Boy said before pulling the curtains closed and disappearing.   
  
"I swear, I'm going to kick his stupid ass..." Marcus muttered petulantly before placing one last kiss on Oliver's nose.   
  
Oliver got up and took some clean clothes form his drawers. He put on his boxers and a pair of jeans. "I'm sorry, I have to go. And when it comes to Percy... you know, you *could* try to be nice to him, every now and then. I wouldn't mind if the two of you got along."   
  
Marcus would've wanted to go back to sleep in those wonderful sheets that smelled just like Oliver himself, but he couldn't - wouldn't - leave Oliver alone with the Weasley. He got up, too, wondering where he had thrown his pants.   
  
"I don't like him, he doesn't like me. End of story," he said simply while getting dressed.   
  
"I know, but do you have to *fight* in front of me? Christ, I don't want to have to be in between you all the time, in case you attack one another..." Oliver continued insistently. "Honestly, Marcus, he isn't that bad. He's quite nice, when you get to know him."   
  
Marcus just grunted. Then he grabbed Oliver's hand and pulled him out to the corridor. Percy didn't apparently know where to go, since he was standing in the hallway, as if waiting for Oliver and Marcus.   
  
"Sod off," he told the Head Boy, ignoring Oliver's protests. "And you shut up. You have a practise to go to."  
  
"Yeah, but I'm not letting you spy."  
  
"I won't look," Marcus promised mischievously. "Besides, I have my own practise after that... well at least I think so."  
  
~~~  
  
Marcus was late. His Quidditch practise had gotten a bit out of hand; Malfoy had made some sarcastic remark about Oliver and really, Marcus had had no choice but to break his nose.   
  
But then again, he should've been cleverer than that. Malfoy was always pissing him of, no matter what. And now that he really couldn't leave Oliver alone, since Percy would undoubtedly be there, he shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have punched that stupid third-year. But hell, it had been fun, feeling his fist hit Malfoy's little, stupid nose. Why did he always hit people in the nose instead of their jaw? Hmm. He had heard breaking people's chins could be a lot of fun, too...  
  
Marcus was practically running down the corridor. Where the fuck was Oliver? He hadn't been in his dormitory, the Common room or even with his mates. Marcus had thought Oliver would wait for him until his practise was over, but apparently he had thought wrong. Now, where *was* he? And more importantly, was Percy with him? Marcus shook his head to get those thoughts out. Percy wouldn't touch Oliver. He wouldn't, because he knew he'd end up with a broken nose. Or maybe this time Marcus would go for his jaw.   
  
Percy's room. How the fuck had he gotten here? Didn't matter. What mattered was that he was there now. He thought about knocking but then decided against it. He kicked the door and it opened. Whether or not it had been locked in the first place, he couldn't tell. At least it hadn't been magically locked, or it wouldn't have given in with one simple kick.  
  
The place was empty. Fuck. Fuck his paranoia. Oliver was okay, had to be. Percy wasn't anywhere near him. But then again, why had the Head Boy come to the Gryffindor tower in the morning in the first place? Had the Quidditch practise been just an excuse? Had he figured out that spell and was now waiting for the right moment, the moment when Marcus would let Oliver out of his sight long enough and cast a reversing spell? *Fuck*!  
  
Marcus pulled the door neatly closed, hoping no one would realize it had been him who had broken it - if it had actually been broken. He hurried down the hallway for a moment before stepping aside and considering his options. He would've checked the Quidditch pitch if he hadn't been there just a short while earlier. The Great Hall? Was it lunchtime? The library?   
  
"Where the fuck are you, Oliver?" Marcus muttered to himself as he turned around and decided to check the library.   
  
Percy was there. Percy fucking Weasley was sitting there, reading some stupid book about stupid Muggles. Marcus saw him immediately and almost attacked him.  
  
"Where is he?" he demanded.  
  
"Who?" Percy asked after looking up, blinking to clear his head.  
  
"Wood," Marcus grunted. Then he rolled his eyes and corrected, "Oliver."  
  
"You just missed him. He's heading for his dormitory. He's not far yet," Percy said, going back to his book, obviously uninterested.   
  
Marcus didn't move a muscle. He kept staring at the Head Boy in front of him.   
  
"Have you done anything to him?" he asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Have you done anything to him?!" Marcus repeated, a little bit more loudly than necessary. Everyone in the room looked at him and the librarian glared at them. Apparently she kept quiet only because she, too, was scared of Marcus.   
  
"He's my best friend, what would I have done to him?" Percy said defensively. He lowered his voice. "And if you mean the counter-curse, the answer is no. He still loves you."   
  
Marcus left without another word. He was getting a bit too obsessed over this for his own liking. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Percy succeeded, now would it? Marcus would still have had an amazing week with Oliver, a week he'd never forget. It was more than the fucking Weasley kid was ever going to have.  
  
Right then he ran into Oliver, who had forgotten something in the library and was going back to get it. With his good persuasion skills - not to mention his kissing skills - he convinced Oliver that whatever it was, it could wait. They headed back to Oliver's dormitory together, ignoring the chuckles of other students.   
  
And at the same time, Percy turned the page. And found exactly what he was looking for. As he read through the recipe, a wide smile spread on his face. He took the book and headed for his room. This was going to be easy. 


	4. Until Dawn

A/N: Okay, okay, so I'm a bad person for not updating things. Hey, I'm distracted. There's Pirates of the Caribbean, and there's still Lord of the Rings, and there is still Elijah Wood. We're starting to get to the end of this, by the way. I'm thinking seven parts altogether.  
  
WARNINGS: In this chapter, there is some violence.  
  
Tricks And Drinks Part IV: Until Dawn  
  
~~~  
  
Marcus had spent seven years hating Potions with Gryffindors. But then, in his extra-year, that had changed, because of Oliver. Now Oliver and Marcus had Potions together, and Marcus didn't mind so much anymore. Until now, he had been watching the Gryffindor through the lessons - but now they were keeping an eye on each other, smirking, smiling to each other, keeping the other aware of where their thoughts lay.   
  
Professor Snape had excused himself a few minutes earlier, because professor McGonagall had needed him to help some student out. The poor first-grader had apparently misused some plant and ended up frozen. The Gryffindors and Slytherins were now alone in the class, which was never a good idea. Today, however, seemed to be a good day. All the seventh-year students were too interested in the love story of Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood to fight.   
  
"Oliver, would you *please* stop staring at Marcus and concentrate on this?" Percy asked irritably. He was stirring their newest potion. It was something beautifully... blue. Well, if Oliver had to taste a potion, he preferred it be blue. It was a nice colour, after all. It was like the sky, and Oliver liked the sky. Just like he liked flying in the blue sky. This, however, was a lot darker a shade of blue.   
  
"Is it time for me to try it yet?" Oliver asked nonchalantly.   
  
Percy smiled. Only Oliver could be that nonchalant before tasting a potion he had barely participated in making.  
  
"No, not yet. You know, you *could* help. Volunteering to taste it was nice, but I'd really appreciate some help. Could you even keep stirring it while I add some ingredients?" the Head Boy said.  
  
"Sure, Perce," Oliver said and took the spoon from Percy. He glanced at Marcus. Again. Marcus was looking at him. They smiled at each other.   
  
"*Please*, Oliver, could you two just *stop* that?" Percy said, frustrated.   
  
Oliver turned to look at his mate. He frowned and asked carefully, "Is this bothering you? I mean, me and Marcus... does it bother you that I fell for a bloke?"   
  
Percy shook his head firmly. "Oh no, it doesn't. I just... I have a bad feeling about Flint, that's all."   
  
Oliver sighed. "Why do you have to be such an idiot? I like him, and I like you. I'm not giving either of you up. Just get *used* to it, will you? Fuck!"   
  
"Language, Oliver."  
  
The Quidditch Captain glared but stayed quiet. He kept stirring the potion like a good boy and Percy added some powder and suddenly the potion changed colour. It became black as night.   
  
"Is it supposed to do that?" Oliver asked curiously, all hard feelings already forgotten.   
  
"Hmm? Oh, the colour. Sure. It's supposed to be black," Percy answered.   
  
"Everybody else's is still blue."  
  
"They aren't this far yet. Now go on, try it."   
  
Oliver took the glass Percy was handing him and smelled the black potion. "Hmm. Doesn't smell too bad. What is it supposed to do again?"   
  
Marcus was absent-mindedly listening to Percy's accurate explanation of how the potion was supposed to make you weightless. Oliver had the perfect body... Marcus let his gaze wander over the other Quidditch Captain's slender form before settling on the hand that was holding the potion. It was black... now *that* was curious. Had Perfect Percy made a mistake? Marcus snorted. Hah. It was definitely *not* supposed to be black. It was supposed to be blue... like Oliver's eyes... Now where had *that* thought come from? Anyway, Percy the Head Boy had apparently done something wrong. Hopefully it was not some serious mistake, now that Snape was gone and all that, since Oliver was apparently going to drink it.   
  
Marcus watched as Oliver eyed his glass without any suspicion. Oliver trusted Percy. Stupid Gryffindor...thought the Head Boy could do no wrong... Oliver would probably have trusted on Percy with his fucking life...  
  
Just as Oliver lifted the glass to his lips, a new thought struck Marcus. He got up and jumped over the table to where Oliver was sitting, and shouted, "Don't drink it!" But Oliver had already gulped down half of the glass before Marcus reached him and knocked the glass to the floor.  
  
Oliver looked at Marcus in bewilderment before glancing at the broken glass and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned to look at Marcus again and asked, "What's wrong? It was just the potion."   
  
But Marcus wasn't looking at Oliver. He was looking at the person behind him. Percy. Marcus stared at the Head Boy with disgust for a moment. Everyone had quieted down and was now looking at the three of them. Then Marcus shrieked something inarticulate, pushed Oliver away and attacked Percy, hitting him hard in the chin with his right fist. Percy stumbled backwards, his back hit the table and he fell clumsily on it. Marcus was there in a split second, reaching for any part of Percy to hurt. The Slytherin held him down on one hand and beat him with the other, no matter how much he tried to fight back. Marcus was a lot stronger and used to fighting.   
  
"Marcus!" Oliver shouted and grabbed his arm. Just like Marcus had thought - Oliver was a bit stronger than him and managed to pull him away. "What is *wrong* with you? Calm the fuck down!"   
  
Percy managed to get back on his feet. His jaw ached and he'd probably be covered in bruises the next day. Luckily, Marcus hadn't had the time to break any bones - or worse.   
  
"I'm going to fucking *kill* you," Marcus threatened. He had calmed down a bit, but was still breathing hard, his muscles ready to jump forward again. Oliver had stepped in front of him and was now holding him away from Percy.   
  
"You're *not* killing him, Marcus," Oliver said determinedly. "Shit! I knew you couldn't stand each other, but this is just too much!" He glanced at Percy over his shoulder without letting go of Marcus and asked, "Perce, are you okay?"  
  
Percy was still trying to figure out whether he was bleeding or not. "Yeah, I'm fine, Oliver," he answered anyway.   
  
"I can't believe you fucking did it," Marcus said to Percy.   
  
"I had to," Percy answered.  
  
At that, Marcus tried to break Oliver's grip and attack the Head Boy again, but Oliver held him still.  
  
"Marcus, *calm* *down*." Oliver's voice was icy and it made Marcus concentrate on him for a moment. The big Slytherin relaxed a little at the sight of Oliver close to him. As Marcus relaxed, Oliver relaxed, though he wasn't letting his guard down.  
  
Suddenly Oliver blurted out, "Percy, about the potion... I'm really hoping it won't make me weightless right now!"  
  
"It won't," Marcus said quietly, keeping his eyes locked with Oliver. "It was the wrong colour."   
  
Everyone else was silent, not moving, just staring at the three of them. In return, they were oblivious of everyone else.   
  
"Oh," Oliver said unintelligently. He was quiet for a moment and then said carefully, "You know, if Percy made a mistake with the potion, it's really no reason to beat him up."   
  
Marcus ignored his boyfriend and looked at Percy again.   
  
"You don't get it, do you?" he said quietly to the Head Boy. "You fucking idiot."   
  
"Marcus, what's going on? Percy? What are you talking about?" Oliver asked, clearly getting exasperated.   
  
Ignoring him again, Marcus continued, "I wasn't playing."   
  
"Oh really?" Percy snorted. "Yeah, right. Let me guess, you were in *love*."   
  
Marcus had tensed again, and so had Oliver. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain said desperately, "Can't you just fucking drop it? You're fighting in the middle of the class! Marcus, forget about him. Percy, stop pissing him off."   
  
Marcus tried to struggle free from Oliver's grip, but it only made the Gryffindor hold him more tightly. "Marcus..."   
  
The Slytherin looked at Oliver and his expression softened suddenly. For a moment they stared at each other, and thought Oliver was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second under Marcus's intent gaze, he didn't look away.  
  
"How long?" Marcus asked, suddenly softly. He kept his eyes on Oliver. "How long have I got?"   
  
Percy cleared his throat. "Until dawn."  
  
Without looking at the Head Boy, Marcus relaxed and wrapped his arms around Oliver. The Slytherin kissed Oliver tenderly, and the Gryffindor, despite his confusion, kissed him back. After all, he still loved him. And he would - until dawn.  
  
Everyone else in the room was still too bewildered to even tease them, so they merely kept quiet, exchanging confused looks. Percy looked uncomfortable and didn't know where to keep his eyes. When it looked like Marcus had forgotten about him, he sat down again. Finally a Slytherin found his power of speech again and blurted, "Christ, get a room!"  
  
Marcus broke the kiss to glare at his housemate. "Fuck off," he said coldly, and the Slytherin quieted down. Marcus looked at Oliver again. "If Snape asks, I took Oliver to Madame Pomfrey's to get him examined in case the potion did something to him."   
  
With that, Marcus pulled Oliver with him. As he was being pulled away, Oliver asked Percy to take his things with him in the end of the class. Marcus didn't give a shit about his own stuff, trusting on his friends to take care of them for him. This was more important than anything else.  
  
Outside the class, Marcus stopped to kiss Oliver again. Fuck Madame Pomfrey.  
  
They had one night. One night...  
  
Fuck. 


End file.
